Thursday, October 6, 2016

resurrected dicks and catfishing that might be more like goldfishing

You guys, something really amazing happened. It's been on my bucket list since MTV brought us the life changing and thought provoking reality show, Cat Fish. My name is Jenn and I have always wanted to be catfished.

In my fantasy I've been talking to a super cute, super funny, girthy (in relation to the D obviously) dude and I'm really into it. Like, I'm naming all the puppies and freezing the 3 potential eggs I have left in case he wants a baby to take care of by himself in the future. He has some legit sounding excuses about why we can't meet up. Like he takes care of his sick mother and she thinks girls with tattoos and piercings are the devil and might try to baptize me in pig's blood in their bath tub or that he takes care of his 9 nieces and nephews because his sister has a gaping vagina and babies just fall out and he's trying to be a supportive sibling. But finally, it's happening and the world is like a big fucking rainbow land with unicorns and shit. But when I walk into the shitty dive bar where our love is going to blossom, the only person waiting is a large, sassy black woman. I immediately burst into tears, screaming "How could you!? I looooooooved hiiiiiiiiim!!!!!" and throw a chair through a window. I mean can't you just picture it? Doesn't it give you all of the feels to imagine it all?

I've gone on more dates with dudes from the internet than I'd like to admit. But I only fucked like half of them so I'm still doing alright.

Anyway, I've been doing OkCupid up super hard these past couple of weeks. I'm trying to buy a house and not pay rent so I'm legit trolling for a dude with a super sweet apartment, ample parking, and a little balcony area for my future puppy to hang out on. Goals mother fuckers, goals.

Currently I've got my number one internet man friend, and then my back up D and the back up back up D. My number one D has a fucked up work schedule and lives kinda far from me so that fucking blows. So I've accumulated the back up D who lives closer, probably doesn't work, and is also kind of a shitshow. And then the back up back up D who I'm not super sure about. He seems cool but all over the place. He might be married, he might be a serial killer, or maybe even a hoarder of cat carcasses. So it's kind of like 3 dicks, 1 vagina.

Today was a bad day. Like the kind of day when you need a vodka drink by 10:30 a.m. and consider starting a trash can fire just to get the fuck away from work. Clearly when back up back up D texted me promising free drinks and food after work I was down. I'm above sucking a dick for a diet coke, but a couple vodka tonics and spinach artichoke dip and things can get crazy. Since he's my third ranking D I didn't give a shit about wearing my boring ass work clothes or brushing my hair. Girl needed some booze. I walked into the bar and immediately noticed a dude sitting at the bar that totally fucking phantomed on me like a year or more ago. I thought it was weird because dude lives in Silverlake and didn't really troll LB but there he was. I was stoked on the prospect of putting my tongue in someone's mouth right in front of his face.

I walked around to the other side of the bar and sat down. I pulled out my phone to be like bro, I'm thirsty where the fuck is you? Phantom dude sits down next to me. Before I can hiss in his face he says, "So I owe you that vodka tonic with extra limes right?". MOTHER FUCKER. Dude catfished me. He changed his cell phone number, used someone else's picture on OkCupid and tried to re-date me. What in all of the fucks of the world!? I tried to squeeze out some fake tears but I've been beaten down by life ya'all and I don't have any fake tears left to give. I thought about throwing a chair, but there were some burly looking chicks nearby that looked like they would've gladly stabbed me for ruining their buzz. So I chugged my free vodka tonic, slammed the glass down, and did what Beyonce told me to do. Put both middle fingers up and yell boy bye. I really did that you guys. And it was AWESOME. I will never feel guilty about forcing my phone to call me Beyonce ever again.

I feel validated. I never understood why that dude phantomed on me and now I know he's been staying up every single night, sobbing and eating chips in bed and blacking out on whiskey by himself in his apartment. Wondering where his life went wrong and what he's missing. And then realizing it's ME, BITCH. Should I feel weirded out that he stalked me little bit? Hell no. I am worthy of being stalked. Am I bummed out that I no longer have a back up back up D? NOPE.

Ladies, next time you're wondering if that dude who phantomed on you is living a happy life and doing super awesome, know this. He's not. He's crying. And he should be. Because you, me and Beyonce are the fucking tits. And let's be real, I'm too fucking tired for a back up back up D.